Title: Friends and Enemies 4/?

By Neva

Rating: PG-13

Classification: Willow/Angel, X-over Highlander

Send Feedback To: neva.crandall@csus.edu

Thank you to those who have sent me feedback; it is very encouraging and helps me continue to write.

Distribution: It will eventually end up at my site www.geocities.com/c_neva  Anyone can archive this story or my first two stories if they want to. Just send me the address to your site please.

Information about my version of the BtVS and Highlander universes can be found with my first story "Dreams?"  The first two stories should definitely be read before this one.

 Disclaimer: None of these characters (except the bad guys) belong to me;  They belong to other people. All rights and properties of Highlander are owned by Rysher entertainment etc., and all rights and properties of Buffy the Vampire Slayer are owned by Joss Whedon, Warner Bros. and Mutant Enemy, etc. (Okay the legal stuff is out of the way.)

 ** Note to Readers: Thoughts are indicated with < and > markings. **

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<He isn't listening to me at all. > Looking at the man walking in front him real estate agent Jon Smith nervously decided that wasn't such a bad thing.  WhenPhil had offhandedly asked him to take this client around to homes Jon had barely kept the gloating off his face.  After all, the entire office had known that the out-of-town businessman, who had stringent requirements of what he wanted, was loaded.  The potential commission the agent working with him would get was more than worth the time and effort of hunting down the perfect property.  The slightly run-down and out of the way former bed and breakfast he'd located fit every requirement.  However, the client made him want to run.  Nothing specific, but Jon hadn't lived in Sunnydale most of his life without acquiring a few instincts.  The man looked normal enough.  He wore an expensive business suit with a coat, which was strange in the summer weather.  Aside from a plain wedding band and a watch, the client wore no jewelry.  He looked a little foreign --- but spoke English without an accent that Jon could hear.  He'd asked a few questions about the entrances to the building and had confirmed the size and number of rooms.  In particular, he'd been interested in the unusual enclosed tennis court.  Other than that he'd said nothing.  Nonetheless, every nerve in the realtor's body was telling him to forget the commission and get away from this client.

 Jon Smith realized he'd stopped giving the sales pitch he'd so carefully planned the night before he'd met the client.  The client was staring at him.  He was waiting for a response to something that Jon hadn't heard.

 "I'm sorry, Mr. Johnson, my mind wand . . .," he began to apologize, fighting notto cringe under the client's unnerving glare.

Curtly, Mr. Johnson repeated himself, "if you are ready we can attend to the paperwork.  I shall purchase the building."

Gratefully, Jon followed him out to the car, determined to get the paperwork done as quickly as he could.  The less he saw of the cold, enigmatic Namir Johnson the happier the real estate agent would be.

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 It wasn't Cassandra at the door, but Nick, their unexpected houseguest.  He took one look at them and flushed.  The former cop ducked his head and ran one hand through his hair.

 Willow ignored her own appearance and looked back at Angel. He was sprawled lazily on the bed propped up on one elbow.  His shirt, now about half buttonless, hung open.  For a moment, Willow let herself be distracted.  The thrumming in her nerves geared up to full force.  Wistfully the young witch sighed, "Honey, you're still all grr. Be nice to our guest; he's new at the goes bump in the night stuff." She turned back to face Nick after Angel reluctantly got of the bed and forced his demon face away. "Can I help you, Mr. Wolfe?"  Willow cheered internally at the steadiness of her voice. <Nope, not breathlessat all -- really. >

 "Um, I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk to you while Cassandra is busy.  She went out for a little while.  I don't think she should hear what I want to talk to you about."

 "Okay. Sure. Come in." Willow stepped back, bumping into Angel, and waved Nick into her room.  No sooner had she closed the door than Angel handed her a bundle of clothing and turned her towards the closet. He looked firmly at Nick, telling the man without words that he was not to look too closely at Willow or her robe. Willow raised an eyebrow at the display of protective jealousy but moved to the closet without protesting -- primarily because the robe really wasn't designed for public wear.  It insisted on coming open.

 Willow returned to find Nick sitting in her desk chair while Angel sprawled on the floor leaning against her bed.  The door to her room was closed again.  She plopped on the bed next to the vampire; he immediately wrapped one arm aroundher legs, possessively resting his hand on her knee. Willow laced her fingers with his, ignoring Nick's amused grin.

The former cop's face quickly turned serious again.

"I went for a walk to clear my thoughts this morning.  After about fifteen or twenty minutes I noticed I was being followed.  It was an Immortal."  Nick noticed with some approval that the couple instantly focused on him.

 "Were you challenged? Are you okay? . . . Why didn't you want to tell Cassandra this?" Willow's face was a charming mixture of confusion and concern.

 "I'm fine; the guy didn't seem interested in fighting.  Just wanted an errand boy.  He said that he had his reasons for avoiding Cassandra.  He wouldn't say why, though I got the impression that she hates him.  The only other information he let me have was that he's talked to you on email and that the message was important.
 
 

Willow's gray-green eyes went round as she put the details together. "Oh . . . why did he risk . . . What was the message?"

 "He just wanted me to give you a disk, and he wanted you to call the number written on it.  He said he would leave town in two days." Nick pulled the floppy disk out of his pocket.  Willow accepted it and began turning the disk over in her hand considering what course of action to take.  Angel just sat and watched her, not letting go of her knee.

 Nick spoke up again, "Um, he told me to ask you about the situation with Cassandra."

 Willow looked at him for a few silent moments, considering what to tell him.  "It's a long story.  His name is Methos; please don't go spreading his name around.  He's the oldest, and he would become a pretty major target if his identity got out."

 "The oldest Immortal!?"

 She nodded and continued, "Cassandra is three thousand years old.  Methos killed her the first time; then he kept her as a slave, killing her repeatedly to subdue her, until she ran away." She paused, taking in the stunned and outraged look on his face. <Poor guy, it'll be hard for him to deal with this.  I had a hard time with it, and Methos had helped me.  Plus, I didn't used to be a policeman. > "I know that sounds really awful; it is awful, but it has been three thousand years.  Methos has changed.  He helps people.  He helped us.  Cassandra doesn't want to admit it though ... she didn't know he was still alive until a couple of years ago . . . he's friends with some people she does trust. . . " Willow felt Angel squeeze her knee and realized that she'd begun to babble.  Blushing slightly and taking a deep breath she reigned herself in.  To her relief, Willow noticed that while Nick's eyes were still rather wide, he hadlost some of the outrage.

 "You said he helped you?" Nick asked.  His voice was a little tense.  Willow clearly believed that the man -- Methos -- had changed for the better.  The man who had followed him had been annoying and slippery as all hell, but he hadn't set off Nick's instincts.  Nick wouldn't have pegged him as a homicidal maniac.  But Cassandra's story was horrible.  He could see why she hated the man.

 "It started with him sending us a book.  Cassandra wasn't too happy about it, but he had Joe bring it.  So she just stuck it on the book shelf and ignored it.  I was curious, so I worked on translating it." A bit of clearly remembered excitement crept into her voice. "The book was a journal of a man who'd had encounters with vampires.  His daughter was turned.  He was a powerful mage and found a way to restore her soul and destroy the demon.  The others helped me work the incantation and battle Angel's demon."  The day was now replaying in her memory.  She looked away from Nick, turning to gaze at Angel. "I've been writing to Methos every since," she mumbled, her mind clearly no longer on the conversation.

 Nick watched with some amusement. <Well, that explained why she's okay with this guy. But Angel seems a bit more suspicious than that, even if this guy did help him out.  I don't think he would tolerate a threat to his girl. > Carefully, he directed the next question at Angel. "Has he helped your group in any other way?"

 Angel reluctantly pulled his attention back to Nick.  "Recently, yes.  Willow told him about the trouble we were having finding information about a nasty demon -- the one we fought yesterday -- and he researched to help us.  Methos also set up a website so he could get information to us without Cass knowing it was from him.  He sends Willow advice on how to deal with being Immortal." The vampire's approval of that last bit of information was clear.

Nick thought about the situation he'd managed to land in. <This sounds like a wait and see. Either side could be right. > Angel's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"That isn't the only thing you wanted to talk about," the vampire said calmly. Willow returned to the conversation, cheeks still flushed, with a curious look in her eyes.

 <How was the guy able to tell? > "Um, yeah, Willow . . . did Cassandra tell you were going to be Immortal?  Before it happened I mean."

 Willow didn't missed the flash of pain in Nick eyes that flashed by before he could hide it.   She also didn't miss the tightness in his voice.  He hadn't been told either, and it had hurt him.  She and Angel looked at him sympathetically. "No, she didn't tell me.  I found out when a headhunter broke into our old house and tried to hunt me early.  I was very lucky."

 Nick's jaw dropped as his eyes flew back and forth between the people in front of him.  He could see the remembered pain and fear.  But there didn't seem to be any anger in the couple. "And you're okay with being lied to?!"

 "She had reasons.  Think about it; would you have kept putting yourself into excessive danger if you'd known you were going to get back up?  I would have. Most Immortals who come across an person who's pre-Immortal don't tell them so that person can have as normal of life as possible for as long as possible.  Did the person who didn't tell you were pre-Immortal tell you about Immortality?"

 "Yeah, you could put it that way.  Amanda shot herself while I was driving." Nick grimaced at the memory.

 Willow couldn't help grinning. "Cassandra wasn't that dramatic.  Of course I had shared some of her memories . . . wait a minute, is your Amanda the thief that Methos mentions sometimes?"

"Thief is a pretty good description of her.  Chronic liar works too.  And she is not my Amanda."

 Angel spoke up this time. "Yes she is. You wouldn't be this upset if you didn't care about her."

 Nick just sat there with his mouth hanging open.

 Willow decided to take pity on him.  "How did you die the first time?"  The young witch had a feeling that how it had happened was involved in the strength of Nick's anger. The feeling was confirmed when Nick's eyes instantly became angry.

 "She shot me." His voice was flat.  The memory still had the power to make him mad.

"Why? Did she have a reason to do it?" Willow carefully kept the shock out of her voice.  Nothing that Cass had told her had indicated that an Immortal would force the first death of someone they intended to train.

 "I'd been poisoned. She wasn't sure if dying that way would have been enough to make my Immortality kick in."

 Willow listened to the bitterness in his voice. "I think Cass would have done the same, although I'm pretty sure poison would be enough." She squeezed Angel's hand, although he didn't seem to be reacting to her statement. "I'd been her student for a little while, and she cared about me.  She would have wanted me to make it." Willow was quite sure of that.  Cass was easily closer to her than her parents had ever been. "I'm not saying that Amanda handled the situation very well.  Sounds like she panicked.  Methos did say she tends to be rather impulsive.  If I saw someone I cared about dying I would probably overreact too."

 From downstairs came the sound of a door opening and closing.  Willow heard Cassandra calling her. Willow looked at Nick compassionately.  <I think he's gotten about as much to think about as he can handle for one day. > "Cass is home.  Angel, could you call the number on the disk.  I'd better go see what she wants." Willow quickly hugged Angel, brushed a light kiss across his lips and danced away quickly when the vampire tried to deepen the embrace.  She slipped out the door and went down to the kitchen.  Slightly dazed, Nick followed her, his mind in a turmoil.

Angel watched as Willow's red hair vanished around the corner. <Am I never going to get any time alone with you, little one? >  Disgruntled, the vampire punched the door frame, denting the wood slightly.  Then he followed Willow. If he couldn't be alone with her, he could be near her.

 
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